Love Letter Mail Room
by Dainty.Swede
Summary: Arthur Kirkland, Specimen Britanious, has moved to the new country to start his journey in becoming the CEO of British company Harrods. A saying in life goes, you always start at the bottom. And that's Arthur's position, both sexually and workwise. In the mail room unfolds Drama in the folds of envelopes and will Arthur be able to handle the CEO's son? USUK, FRANADA, (First fanfic)
1. Chapter 1

**Love Letter Mail Room**

~oO0Oo~

Chapter 1: Fresh start

Unpacking large boxes that were big enough to stuff shipping containers of Chinese grade products felt like torturous hours to Arthur. carrying one box after another up the stairs of his new apartment could be a real chore. But in the end he knew it would be worth it, moving across the pond didn't come without a few bumps in the road, and by the looks of things, unpacking was his first.

Wiping the his sweaty brow - that was in dire need of a good pluck - he collapsed down on the plastic container that he had just placed down. The container was filled to the brim of books that he had brought over from the UK. Who knew what kind of ungodly books they had over in the states.

Yes, the United States wasn't exactly his first choice of work. Originally he had planned to go to Canada. A nice quiet shack in Canada with shelves upon shelves of books for him to read did sound pleasant, but retirement was a faraway reality in Arthur's logical mind.

You see Arthur Kirkland had a purpose to move away from the small Island he had called home. He had a purpose to leave behind his friends and family. He had a purpose to start a fresh. He had a purpose in America, a purpose that involved...sorting out mail?

Not exactly where he wanted to start his new life as a fully fledged adult, that was legal to drink may you know, though the legal amount that he should drink would get him as drunker than an Irishmen on St Patrick's.

Arthur had to start at the bottom like a normal model citizen would, no special treatment for him, he would take it like a true Briton would, hard and though that's how he liked his work and his home life. Working his way up the ladder to become CEO of British company, Harrods would defiantly take a lot of work, but he knew he could do it, he was Arthur Kirkland for Christ's sake.

And if there was one thing about the Kirkland family that would stay there until he died, was that they were stubborn as a mule on a good day. Meaning that no-one and they meant no-one could tell them what to do.

So Arthur's choice in a desk job was strange to no end, but they wouldn't question it, a confident and egotistic Arthur was one thing, but a self-defensive and prissy Arthur was another thing on an entirely different scale. Another lovely trait he earned from his family, fan-bloody-tastic.

So there he was, away from the world but yet still belonging as he sat in his new bare and empty apartment. New things meant new beginnings, right? Well they always seemed that way in his books.

"Might as well get started right?" He said to no one in particular as he began to move the boxes he had underlined as clothes into the bedroom that was down the hall that's width could only be described as the narrow streets of England.

Creaking open the white wooden door of his bedroom, he peered in for some unknown reason, - was he expecting anyone to be in there - and slid the cardboard box down in the middle of the room.

"Looks like furniture isn't going to be delivered until tomorrow." He said with an exasperated sigh and muttered a few complaints about Ikea furniture and how prompt they were on delivery time. "Damn Swedes, well, I guess this gives me some time to familiarize myself to my surroundings." A good walk would certainly suite well.

Walking out of the bedroom, through the hallway and to the door, he took one more glimpse at his new accommodation with a whimsical gaze he inspected the plain white washed walls with matching dark wooden floors, he frowned slightly at how damp the place was, winter was defiantly going to be a problem.

"So this is it huh? New house, new job I hope there will be nothing else new." He grumbled before finally shutting the door behind him.

~oO0Oo~

A seemingly long elevator ride later, Arthur was faced with the busy and bustling streets of New York City, trust his luck to pick the most annoyingly congested city in all America. But weren't they all like that? All about size, spirit and patriotic pride? Arthur would be calling the kettle black if he wasn't patriotic about England himself, but America was such a reality check.

Everything was so big, different and smelled heavily of coffee. Or maybe that was the Starbucks that was directly opposite him...or the one down the street...or the one the street over. _What's with these barmy fools and coffee? I bet my hat that if I go to order a good cuppa they will look at me as if I'm a newly discovered specimen._ Specimen Britanious male, from the land of tea and mint bunnies, he would most defiantly be called.

"I'm going to get lost in no time." He said to himself, looking at the swarm of people crowding the streets of what seemed like a normal day for the American city, seemed like a new custom to Arthur. He wasn't even sure he'd get used to this.

A small growl of hunger emitted from his stomach made him blush in embarrassment and his slender reached down to touch the slightly flabby abdomen. "All right my first mission will be food, and it won't be that blasted McDonald's."

Slipping out his wallet, he counted his change, _20 dollars... now that's different to 5 pounds isn't it? Oh yes 20 dollars is roughly 10 pounds, so I hope that's enough to get something small before my pay comes in tomorrow._

Finding an ideal restaurant for Arthur's extremely English palate, was a bit of a challenge as he wandered past each shop in the city centre. Trying to find an actual British pub would be quite a challenge in a patriotic American city, but he would do his best.

Looking out at all the big and bold brand names of American companies, he stood there dumbfounded. He just hoped that he would find one that he recognised, one that was healthy to be precise.

"Hm, lets see." He mumbled, eyes flickering over the names he saw. "McDonald s, no, Taco Bell, no. Ah...Hooters? No defiantly not. Oh I can stand Italian." Walking over to the large and quite honestly standoffish sign of the "Olive Garden", he was met with rude and painful bash to his lower back, and sent tumbling down onto the cold concrete below.

His attacker-would seem to be- fell over the top of him, in a last-minute attempt to break the fall, he placed his hands out beside him. Now as a result he was seen, straddling the smaller Briton. Flushed red in embarrassment Arthur pushed the other man off of himself and stood up, dusting non-existent particles of dust.

"Watch where you're going, you wanker! You could have gotten me seriously injured! You're a brinky man thinking you can knock over me. I'll make sure I batty-fang you and it'll look like a complete accident if you should call the bobbies on me!" Arthur shouted at the confused blonde that was still on the ground. Other New-Yorkers looked on baffled at Arthur's strange vocabulary.

The wheat haired blonde sat there confused before he sluggishly began to pull himself off the ground, to stand a few feet taller than the Briton. "Calm down dude, look I'm sorry I bumped into you and all but I kinda got to get to a meeting and I'm already late as it is." The taller man said bending down to pick up his open briefcase.

That was when Arthur noticed the other man was in a crisp clean corporal suit and there were papers scattered around where they stood. Arthur seemed to shrivel up at the onlookers scrutiny, he offered his help as they silently worked together to place all the fallen pieces of paper back in their rightful place.

Once all the papers were back in the case, only then did Arthur take a look at the other man. He was fucking drop dead gorgeous. It was as if he were sent from the heavens or cloned right out of a fashion magazine. Arthur's eyes ran over the muscles that were shamefully hidden in the corporal suite and he couldn't help but stare, the other caught onto it rather quickly too, for Arthur's disappointment.

"Uh thanks for that and sorry for running into you, man." The other man said rubbing behind his neck with his hands. This action gave Arthur the perfect opportunity to look at how his muscles flexed under the business suite and he couldn't help but feel shyly giddy.

"Uh uh it-its fine, I was just um...I'm sorry." He stuttered out, unsure for once in his life, which was quite odd for the usually outspoken Briton. Arthur looked up and was met with a friendly and yet slightly obnoxious laugh.

All those feelings of giddiness died as the man laughed, _He has the audacity to laugh at me?!_

Holding his stomach as he laughed the American wiped his tear, standing up rather unsteadily, as snickers of laughter threatened to leave his lips. "Oh man your accent is so funny," More laughter followed after and Arthur stood there enraged in red.

_How dare he make fun of my accent, if anyone talks funny it is most certainly him._

"Shut it you tosser! I don't talk funny! You're the one with the ridiculous accent and that laugh of yours is nothing but annoying so shut your trap before you cop a mouse by my fist!"

That certainly encouraged the American, a ripple of giggles followed by full on spurts of snorts emitted from the other blonde, "Haha Oh my god, Cop a mouse? Dude what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"If you keep laughing like that, you'll find out you git!" Arthur threatened, clutching his fist ready for a fight, but what happened next certainly did surprise him.

"Nah nah dude, its cool, any-ways I got to get to a meeting so see you round mouse." Arthur sputtered at the nickname, and the man only skipped off into a sea of people.

As Arthur rolled his eyes, he could only imagine what the rest of the American public were like and for his dire and utter hopes, he wished they weren't friendly. How sadly mistaken the poor Briton really was.

* * *

A/N: Um Hi, I'm Nikki and welcome to my new story. Please note it is M rated so there will be some raunchy sex. I am very sorry if my vocabulary, grammar or spelling isn't up to par as my first language is Swedish. Please be nice this is my first fanfiction and I would love your opinion :), thanks so much and see you next chapter!

British Slang Translations: Please don't be offended if you are English, these are Victorian terms so no one uses them

Batty Fang: To thrash roughly

Brinky: Brave or Fearless

Bobbies: Policemen/women

Cop a mouse: To get a blackeye


	2. Chapter 2

**Love Letter Mail Room**

Chapter 2: Tomorrow is a new day

Monday marks the day for where the weekend ends. Where children go back to school, packing their toys away glumly in replace of school books. Where Adults go back to their business in earning money to stabilize their families finances. Where Arthur seemed to be an over excited puppy, though he didn't know it - but having had rolled over numerous times in the bed may have proved his excitement...or worry.

He had spent almost an entire weekend cramped up on the floor of his apartment and eating nothing but fast food to his absolute distaste and disgust. But in the end he managed to survive, if only just.

So getting out of his new bed was a splendour, lifting up the covers to the cool March morning, he toed his way to his en-suite. Stepping onto the cold tiles of his bathroom sent a buzz of shivers up his body, and his whole being seemed to vibrate at the new sensation.

Reaching up to his cupboard, he opened the new packet of toothpaste for which he was in dire need of using - morning breath wasn't pleasant. Though as he brushed his teeth, he couldn't help but think what life was going to be life at work.

In the past he had only had a handful of jobs. As a teenager he worked at the local chippy and when he finished school he worked as an assistant teacher at a local primary school. So his family was quite baffled in the sudden change of career choice, they were so sure he'd up as a professor at Cambridge or some ritzy university like that. Arthur was well off into the rich side of life, just in the wrong career set.

He spat out the mix of washed up white toothpaste and the remains of his morning breath and walked out to the Chester draw that sat adjacent to his bed. Pulling heavily on the Swedish made furniture, he pulled out a clean white dress-shirt and black satin trousers. If there was one thing about Arthur he had to look presentable no matter what. Even if his job involved the simplicities of sorting out the mail of each business head of the company, he would do it with out question.

This was partially the reason for why he had no social life. No-one wanted to hang out with a boring old twenty-three year old with a personality of an elderly man. They wanted a party freak while Arthur's only party was the fist pump he gave himself when he finished the entire book of Fifty 'Shades of grey', as depressing and slightly erotic it was, he did it and may have had to jack off as the book gave him a painfully hard erection that was concealed in the thin fabric of his trousers.

Arthur was indeed the life of the party, and because his par-say lack of sexual experience he was left a virgin at the age of twenty-three and wasn't entirely sure of his sexuality. He considered himself asexual at times for his lack of interest in pornography and other erotica, but he wasn't even sure if he was straight or not. Did normal guys jack off to other guys having sex? Who knew.

So there he was sitting at the spotless breakfast bar with a piece of toasted bread that was lightly dusted in Marmite, another thing he brought over from Mother England, he just hoped he had enough to last until he could find it again.

The only sound behind the muffled murmur of the television and the crispy crunch and cracks of Arthur biting into his toast, was his racing heart. He wouldn't admit that he was nervous because his pride outweighed his nerves completely, but he could say he was the slightest bit concerned about what they would say.

He started blankly down at his toast, apparently deep in thought, "Will they like me? Or will it be just like it was in high school?" He said aloud, rolling his eyes at the prospect he pulled himself off the chair and began to make his way to the living room.

Sitting down on the white leather couch (only god knew why he bought white, the stains would be horrific if he wasn't careful), he tied his sleek black shoes over his feet, these were definitely his favourite shoes, he had worn them for years over in England and he couldn't resist buying a new pair.

Also another thing, do guys talk about shoes and fashion? Arthur wasn't exactly an expert, but the small glances and glares he gave some women who were wearing shorts and tank tops a size far too small for them, was a crime in itself.

Getting up off the couch he threw his satchel over his shoulder and made his way to the door, muttering silent prayers to himself as he took a step. Closer and closer he got to his own bloody door, his nerves seemed to rise.

"Oh fuck it." He stormed over to the door, opening it with one swift movement and continued his confident stride down the hallway and into the elevator, where a few confused American residents watched him the whole entire ride with concern.

~oO0Oo~

Getting out of his house seemed easy, now the real challenge was to get to the office building and not runaway with his tail in-between his legs.

"C'mon Arthur, you can do this. Just breath in and out...oh and while you're at it try not to screw up as you're busy hyperventilating like a women in labor." He scolded to himself quietly as his eyes looked over the massive corporal building that came into view.

It was a tall sleek building that reached over skyscrapers tall -or it seemed to feel like it- the windows were tinted on each panel leading up to the sharp tip of the buildings antenna. The building had a decently sized garden that sat either side of the stairwell, with a colourful array of flowers, it seemed nice.

Yeah...nice was definitely a word for it.

Walking up the stairs of the building, he noticed the clear glass door that stood in the entry way and the few people who were slipping in and out of the doorway. Through the door he could see a receptionist with a small as bright as the sun.

_Ok see Arthur, I told you it would be fine, I mean the receptionist looks nice enough...unless she is a witch somehow. No don't be stupid I would have sensed if she was. A disruption of magic in the air never goes unnoticed by me._

Pushing upon the door, he trudged over to the main desk, where the women's smile broke into a full on grin, which frankly terrified the hell out of Arthur. He also saw her slip under her desk something along the lines of a canon camera.

_Why would she need that for?_

"Hello, my name is Elizaveta. Are you by any chance Arthur?" The brunette asked staring directly into Arthur's eyes. If it had been a man he would have down right slapped him for the for the examination. But as it wasn't, he decided to keep his gentlemanly façade.

"Ah yes that would be me." He said firmly.

"Oh aren't you just a dear, you'll fit in so well around her, a lot of other people here are still in the closest too~." Elizaveta cooed while Arthur stood there baffled.

"Pardon me miss but I'm not-" Arthur was going to say that he was indeed straight but the women cut him off before he had the chance.

"Oh never mind me, quickly this way I'll show you around." Arthur didn't get a chance to reply as she practically jumped from the other side of the counter to drag him off into a leftwards direction.

Whilst being dragged, Elizaveta talked at a ridiculously fast speed, conversations both involving her home life and her work life. Arthur could only listen to one thing at a time, so he settled on her family life.

From what he could pick out he discovered that she was a married women - she kept flaunting her wedding ring in the air- and had one son. Though he really didn't pay attention to the names, he was more focused on remembering what way she had led him and how he would get out.

Elizaveta led Arthur to an elevator, where she continued to talk and Arthur only absent-mindedly nodded his head and she continued to smile.

"...my baby is such trouble, for some reason he hates his father so much and he keeps trying to grope me at every chance he has. It is quite endearing... Oh I'm so sorry I'm getting carried away." She chuckled lightly and Arthur couldn't help but smile, shaking his head all awhile.

"No no dear, its quite all right, I guess if I had a family of my own I'd completely understand. The bond that a mother has with a child is truly special and it seems that yours is indeed strong." Arthur responded with kindness and compassion heavily laced in his words.

Elizaveta seemed to gleam in response, "You know I hope you can receive the happiness that I have. I just don't imagine I man like yourself would be by himself," She said earnestly while Arthur's eyes widened, "Don't worry sweetie I'm not a stalker, its compulsory for me to read your résumé. I am after all in-charge of recruiting our new employees." She explained and Arthur found his eyes -as well as eyebrows- drop back into place.

The elevator door opened with a small chiming ting and Elizaveta walked him down a hallway of clear glass, where many other employees were busy working, sorting out paper, ringing up people on the phone, basically anything and everything was taken place in here.

"Hi Antonio." Elizaveta said walking down the hallway and Arthur flicked his eyes to a Spaniard who was busy talking on the phone, a smaller man with an odd curl and a grumpy exposition sat in the desk opposite the Spaniard, his eyes flicking from the pages of his letters to the freshly cut green blades of Antonio's eyes.

"Hey Tino." A small man with pale blonde hair waved in response and turned to continue his conversation with a fairly menacing man that scared the shit out of Arthur, but Tino didn't seem worried or frightened at all as he handed a letter over to the taller blonde. The man said a small barely audible, "Tack, min fru." which the younger blushed deep and denied to no end.

_How odd._

Before he could contemplate the small amount of homosexuality he had seen already, a large force of a body accidentally bashed into Arthur's right shoulder, sending up forward.

_Oh god not again. _

Just before he touched the groan strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him up right once again. The Briton turned around and was met with a familiar sight.

_OH GOD NOT AGAIN!_

"You?!" Arthur said alarmed and Elizaveta finally turned around noticing that Arthur was a "few" metres behind her.

"Oh hello Alfred. What are you doing here?" She asked, completely ignoring Arthur's shock.

"Hm oh, just coming down here to pick something up from Francis. Though it looks like I caught something else." Alfred, presumably said with a chuckle. Arthur swore he could hear a camera click from somewhere.

_That laugh...and-and I'M STILL IN HIS ARMS!_

Flailing out of Alfred's fairly strong grip, Arthur straightened himself up and faced the obnoxious american. The wheat haired man was once again in a crisp clean corporal suit. Blonde hair sleeked back and a curl as irritating as the man stood up proudly. Azure blue eyes were concealed by a pair of wire thin glasses

_Oh my majesty he's even more handsome than last time - no what the bloody hell are you thinking you idiot?_

"Oh hey mouse! You have a habit of falling over, might wanna stay on solid ground next time." Arthur saw red at that snide comment, really Arthur was it that bad?

"You idiot! Its your fault I keep falling over! You cack headed bastard!" Arthur shouted and the other continued to laugh at Arthur's terminology.

"Oh dude, you are too funny!" His eyes suddenly darkened and his voice dropped lower. "With that attitude you could get fired around here. After all... I am the CEO's son." Arthur's eyes widened for the second time for that day and he immediately felt the urge to apologise. How can I screw up on the first day?!

"Ah I'm terribly sorry sir, I just had a rough nights sleep is all." He lied hoping it would suffice to the other man's seemingly low brain cell quantity.

The man chortled once more before the dark seas of his eyes moved back behind the clouds revealing blue skies and a bright smile for a sun. "Dude you totally got scared shitless! I like you mouse, but you're not really a mouse...you kinda seem like my cat, so I'm gonna call you Iggy, man!"

"Why the bleeding hell do I have that stupid nickname?!" Arthur demanded to Alfred and he saw in the corner of his eyes, Elizaveta glimmer in awe at both blondes.

"Becauseeeee, my cat's name is Iggy. And you remind me so much of him man! You're all grumpy at one point then shy at the next and besides you look cute~." Alfred said joyfully and Arthur felt himself clench his fist once again. "But anyway dude I got to head to the big office, See ya later Iggy. See ya Lizzy."

"Bye Alfred." Elizaveta said cheerfully as she waved at Alfred's back as he walked away. As Alfred's back turned, Arthur shot him the middle finger.

"Bugger off wanker." Arthur grumbled, his face stained red.

"Oh if you think that's character wait until you meet Francis." She smiled and continued leading him down the corridor.

* * *

A/N: Hello everyone, Nikki here. I wanted to personally thank all of you who have favourited, followed and reviewed. I love hearing from you guys and as I said I don't speak English very well, so I thank you for helping me further my English. Love you all :3

Also on another note I hope you don't mind a few side pairings. I really love these pairings and I couldn't resist. Also who do you think Elizaveta's husband and baby is? The baby may or may not have a tendency of awesomeness. I don't know why but I wanted him to be their baby. Don't judge!

Getting my cosplay is a pain! Living in Sweden sucks for postage! Argh but It'll be worth it!

Translations:

cack-headed: means clumsy, cause Arthur is too British for that word! *nods head proudly*

Tack, min fru: Thanks, my wife *squeals* also its Swedish.

SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER BROS! (dear god is it a Swedish thing for the word bros...idk)


	3. Chapter 3

Love Letter Mail Room

~oO0Oo~

Chapter 3: Bloody Starbucks

After the rather annoying run in with Alfred, Elizaveta took Arthur by the arm, leading him down the corridor and into his supposedly new office. It looked nice, three desks sitting together, with two out of the three filled with fellow blondes.

One blonde was hard at work, with a hand on his ear as he was talking and the other was holding a heavy mug that read, "I know you want to be Canadian, please." The man's odd curl bobbed up and down in irritation as the person on the phone seemed unreasonable to respond to, however his frustration was evident on his face, but not in his voice.

"Now sir please be reasonable, there's no reason for all this fuss, I swear I won't have this done if you keep forgetting my name...Oh uh yes, yes I'll have it done by this Thursday no problem, and uh its Matthew. For the sixth time." He hung up the phone and swivelled around in his roller chair, his indigo eyes shot up and he jabbed the person next to him.

"Non, you're the most gorgeous not moi. Oh stop it mon cherie, I can flatter you I'll I like but you on the other hand...oh no no it does not suit you at all. A dinner date at my place, what time my dear? Oh when the sun and the moon meet together in a beautiful twilight, that is when. All right see you then mon amour. Merci, au revoir." The other blonde, presumably French blonde had a dreamy expression on his face, before it turned to a scowl at the light jabbing at his shoulder.

"What is it now, Mathieu? Oh...bonjour mon ami. You are Arthur If I am not mistaken." The moment the words came out of his god forsaken French mouth, Arthur knew immediately that he was going to learn to loathe the man.

"Ah a Frenchmen I see," Most indecent of people. Arthur scowled down at the man.

"Hm I agree, English pig."

"We won't be getting on, now will we?"

"Not in the slightest. Bâtard." The blonde said nonchalantly with swish of his air and Arthur could have nailed him into the wall without a second word if his job wasn't on the line.

"I've taken French class you dolt. Alors ne pensez pas que vous pouvez m'appeler noms derrière mon dos, putain salope." Francis was most definitely taken aback at that. Five years of that dumb and utter waste of a time French class actually came in handy, Arthur found himself thinking.

"Oh I must hand it to you, you don't have the brain of a pig oh no. You have a brain more along the lines of a small ugly English pug." Francis spat and smirked to himself while Matthew seemed to sink into the ground in embarrassment, it was a work place for Christ's sake, and they were acting like

"Hwa dyde ðu becweþan?!" Arthur shouted in old English, which left most people in the room confused beyond belief. At this point Elizaveta decided it was high time she got involved and broke up the arguing, as Matthew was uselessly trying to hold Francis back - weakly pulling on his arm.

"Al right ladies have you had enough yet? You are just reminding me of my little Gilly and his father." She shook her head at the thought of the time where she gave Gilbert a toy wooden sword. Her poor husband ended up in hospital with several stitches in his abdomen and left an unfinished music piece at home that now had blood to the mix of parchment and ink.

"So sorry Elizaveta, that was most degrading on my part, please excuse my ill behaviour."

"Arthur please stop with the formalities, I've already mentioned that manners and etiquette only matter for the higher ups." Did she really say that? Must have been when we were in the elevator. Damn I need to pay attention.

"Anyway, gentlemen, I can clearly see that this group is going to be most interesting. We at the company of Harrods expect you to keep up to our policy standards." Here eyes laid directly onto Francis," This is your third warning Mr Bonnefoy, I do expect you would please stop flirting with other workers...both male and female." She scolded and her green eyes glinted darkly down at the Frenchmen, who shuddered at the tone.

"Arthur dearie, I hope you enjoy working here and I am terribly sorry for Mr Bonnefoy's behaviour, but this is where I must leave you. I hope for you to at least try to get along with Francis before you hate him, I know I tried..." She said once before leaving, closing the clear glass door behind her and walking down the hallway, the only sound was the faint clicks of her high heels.

"Um, he-hello Arthur, my n-name is Matthew," The Canadian stuttered out nervously and Arthur noted how not once had his eyes met his own.

"Pleasure to meet you Matthew," Arthur's eyes moved to Francis and a scowl slowly imprinted onto his face, "Not that I can say the same thing for you, Francis."

"Me either, britannique porc."

"Ferme ta gueule!"

"C'mon guys can you knock it off? We have work to do and that doesn't involve arguing, so why don't we just give Arthur the quick run down and then we can be on our way, eh?" The Canadian ushered quietly, Arthur was amazed by the volume of his voice, but more amazed by his looks.

He looked like that annoying Alfred fellow that he had already bumped into, twice. The similarities were flawless, the face, the nose, the hair, the only major difference was his eyes and body shape. While Alfred had sky blue eyes and that muscular frame Matthew had a milky purple eye colour and a frailer physic.

Shaking his head and bringing himself back to reality, he stared at Matthews eyes, "Yes, I agree with you Matthew, so would you give me the run down of what I have to do?" He questioned and Matthew's eyes seemed to gleam.

Odd

"Oh yes we sure can right Francis?"

"Hm oh yes sure Al."

"How many times have I told you its Matthew, not Alfred! I look nothing like my brother!"

"Hold on a minute Matthew. You mean to say that chap that I just ran into, Alfred, is your brother?"

"Sadly yes, Francis and I have a bet you see. Its a bet to see if hes adopted or not, its either that or he got dropped on his head as a kid." _Ah that would explain a lot._

"But anyway, lets give you the run down." Matthew said in a quiet cheer.

~oO0Oo~

By the end of the day, Arthur had learnt his area in sorting out mail and was working through it like a pro. He was in charge of the letters involving shipping to other countries. As the company Harrod's is officially British, it doesn't stop them going global like himself. The company has stores all across the northern hemisphere (Except France), and was looking to branch of further into the southern hemisphere. Those poor Australians need more things than Myer and David Jones - yes he had learnt about those stores while looking through the mail.

He was the last one in the office at the current time of 6pm. Francis had left first at 4, saying he couldn't let his 'mon peitit lapin' waiting. God its a wonder that man doesn't have STD's with the amount of people he's slept with.

Matthew went home an hour later, he said something along the lines of 'Kumajaja will eat all the fish If I don't get back soon', Arthur was sure that he didn't want to know what a Kumajaja was.

So there he was going through his last letter about how the Harrod's in Los Angeles needed more stock in short shorts and crop tops. He sighed at that in put in the 'non urgent' pile, honestly he couldn't deal with that shit and this time. Looking around his desk he decided that it was in fact time to clock out.

Pushing the swivel chair into the the white wooden desk, he vacated the room. Nothing was unusual, only lines and lines of empty workrooms through clear glass doors. He felt a sense of pride being the last one to be able to leave, it gave a sense of purpose in work and made him feel proficient in his job (no social life).

He got into the elevator as he reached the end of the hallway and patiently waited as it the elevator whirled up through the floors. Tapping his foot and whistling a tune, he was only one floor away from the ground, when suddenly the elevator halted to a stop, and the doors opened ominously - seemed that way to Arthur.

There was standing, Alfred, looking sharp - not mentally- as usual in his corporal black suit that was looking a tad dishevelled, though Arthur couldn't blame him, it was the end of the day after all.

"Hey dude! Oh man sorry I keep bumping into, its not like I mean to or anything." Alfred said before walking into the elevator with Arthur. _Haha boy did it just get warmer who turned on the heaters?_

"Uh no no its fine, I was just heading home for the day anyway." Arthur mumbled, sinking further into the scarf that he had brought earlier that day. The fabric acted like a defence mechanism on Arthur's part as it seemed to cover his growing blush.

"Yeah me too man! Oh by the way sorry about making fun of your eyebrows the other day, that not heroic at all, dude." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck while Arthur felt his cheeks flare brighter than a spot light.

"Yes ah thank you for apologizing." As he said that he saw something light up in Alfred's azure blue eyes.

"Hey man let me make it up to you!" Alfred offered loudly and pointed his thumb to his chest, meanwhile Arthur felt himself sink into the air conditioning vents.

"No no you really don't have to do that." Arthur pleaded with Alfred, but the American was having none of it. _Damn perseverance._

"Course I do, its what a hero would do. Let me get you coffee."

"I don't really like coffee, I'm more of a tea type person."

"Aw that's ok, its on me anways."

The steel doors opened slowly and both blondes walked out the door and into the lobby. No one was there unsurprisingly, but there was some classic jazz music playing, which seemed to put a jive into Alfred's steps. While Arthur trudged his way out of the building, Alfred seemed to skip, but it wasn't at all girly, more of a manly prance or a stride. Yeah a stride... Hang on did he say anyways?!

"That isn't a word." Arthur said as the walked their way through the pathway in-between the garden beds.

"Huh? What'd ya say?"

"Anways, that isn't classified as a word in the English Oxford dictionary." He kicked a rogue leaf that was on the pavement, Autumn was definitely on its way. Even without proof of the falling golden brown leaves, the air did seem chiller then prier.

"Wow are you a walking dictionary or something?" Alfred joked as he picked up the pace to a local Starbucks, which happened to be just around the corner from the work building - what a surprise.

"Excuse me?! I have you know I am nothing of the sort!" Boy this Alfred was annoying, he just apologised to me only moments ago and now he's at it again with the insults. In anger, he threw his hands at Alfred, attempting to heavily thrash the man which the taller easily picked Arthur off of him.

"All right all right calm down, just let me get you some tea." A smile was clear and firm on Alfred's face and Arthur couldn't help but lift the scarf just that bit higher in embarrassment.

* * *

A/N: I am so sorry for not posting sooner! I'm making my jack frost cosplay and its being a pain in the butt! But I'm hoping it will look amazing when I'm done, ((Nikki, don't put your expectations too high)). But anyways yeah chapter 4 will be their supposed date and I am so sorry for the whole coffee shop cliché, but its my fanfic and I do what I want! Look I made Gilbert into a baby for petes sake! Also another apology I now how much England hates the French but historically speaking French was the official language for 200 years.

Reviews? I'm sorry if I'm pestering but I'd love to hear from you guys, you help my English so much and I'm so grateful for that!

Translations: I realised I had too much French in this chapter... oh well itu med det!

Bâtard: Bastard (French)

Lors ne pensez pas que vous pouvez m'appeler noms derrière mon dos, putain salope: so don't think you can call me names behind my back, fucking whore

Britannique porc: British pig

Ferme ta gueule: Shut up

Hwa dyde ðu becweþan: What did you say? (Old English)

And just another fact Myer and David Jones are these deparment stores in Australia.

So that's it bros! See ya next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Love Letter Mail Room **

~oO0Oo~

Chapter 4: Just a cup of tea

**Shout out to, "THE GIRL OF MANY NAMES", she has reviewed every chapter and I cannot describe her awesomeness, so it will be compared to Prussia's! Tack så mycket!**

Alfred lead Arthur down one of the main streets of New York, Arthur didn't pay attention to which, as there were so many to count in this city. Alfred's hand was holding firmly on Arthur's wrist, making the latter blush something fierce.

He tried protesting at the grip, but Alfred had steel grip hands, as each time he tried to push away he would end up pulling closer to the hand. So for now he accepted the fact that he was holding hands, it would make it safer anyway, and getting lost in the crowds of New York can be a massive bitch if you're not careful.

But in some way, somehow, Arthur liked the fact that Alfred was holding his hands. It gave him a sense of warmth and comfort that he had never received before in his life, even though he wouldn't admit it out loud—for egotistic reasons— he enjoyed the mutual hold, or what seemed to be mutual. C'mon they just met.

Alfred blabbered on about how good the coffee at Starbucks was and Arthur absently nodded his head along to each syllable leaving his mouth,—though his main concern right now was Alfred's hand on his wrist—he said something along the lines of, "The Starbucks that's outside our building really sucks, I mean there was this one time where I bought myGrande chai tea latte, 3 pump, skim milk, lite water, no foam, extra hot coffee, I mean seriously who could get that order wrong? Simplest thing in the world, dude!" _I would most definitely forget that ridiculous order on the spot if I were to work at a place as dreadful as Starbucks_, Arthur thought to himself.

So there they were rushing through the busy streets of New York because Alfred's pallet for coffee was far too gourmet for the Starbucks across the street.

"Alfred, would you please tell me where we are going? And don't say duh Starbucks, because I bloody well know that!" Arthur asked with a huff and attempted to yank his hand away, but Alfred only laughed in response and picked up his pace, causing Arthur to fumble forward slightly.

"We are going to the Starbucks's on Third Avenue; I thought I already told you that." Alfred dodged a man who was too busy looking at his phone to be paying attention where he was walking, dragging Arthur along with him.

Arthur grunted, "I don't know where third avenue is, you twat! Why can't you American's name your streets with names instead of stupid idiotic numbers? Numbers are for houses, use them!"

"You're so funny man. But it doesn't matter we are here anyways."

Alfred was right, in fact they were there. The two blondes stood outside a tall brick building with a dark faded green awning with the words "STARBUCKS" in big bold white lettering. Window panels lead up the whole face of the entire building, some closed for privacy and others wide open, allowing everyone to see them get changed. Arthur had to look away from the sight of one women changing into a blouse.

Walking into the coffee shop, the aroma of coffee beans filled his senses and Arthur felt himself nearly loose his bearings as the power of coffee hit his nose. A few people were sitting in the comfortable brown arm chairs, with a coffee either in the hands or on the coffee table. Some were chatting to each other, others were typing away on their laptops and even some were attempting to flirt with the cashier. _Bloody hormonal enraged American's. _

"Hey Artie, over here." Alfred shouted and motioned with his arm for Arthur to come over and stand in the line. Only then did Arthur realise he had literally stopped at the main entrance and a few fellow customers were looking no more than pleased as he blocked the door.

Blushing in embarrassment, he quickly rushed over to where Alfred was in the line, the American chuckling all the while, "Shut it you whanker! You could have told me to queue up!"

"Whatever dude, so what would you like?"

"Sorry?" Arthur asked befuddled.

"What do you want to drink? I mean I am paying for you after all." Alfred shot his pearly white gleam of a smile at Arthur, and the Brit felt his face heat up.

"Uh no, no, it's ah fine! Y-you don't ha-have to pay for any-anything." Arthur defended, stuttering all the while. Alfred shook his head, that wasn't a response he was looking for.

"No dude, I wanna buy you something, it is your first day here and I wanna make sure that you're fitting in well. I mean you are my employee after all." Alfred gleamed down at Arthur, while the Briton was confused, _Just what did he mean by my employee?_ He was going to question Alfred about what he said but the lady at the cashier interrupted them.

"Hi can I take your order please?" The red head asked, her voice was a thick and heavy Boston American accent that was cheery and kind all the same. Alfred grinned up at her while taking a step forward to order.

"Sure thing, I would like to order my usual, So that would be a chai latte in a Grande size, with skim milk, lite water, no foam, three pumps and extra hot in temperature, please." Alfred finished his long and confusing order and Arthur stood behind him feeling sorry for the poor girl.

"Uh…sure? Anything else." Though with the question her smile never faded and her eyes never left Alfred. The look she gave the bespectacled American sent a feeling up Arthur's spine that he couldn't describe_. Could it have been jealously? No of course not!_

"Uh-huh yep, Artie?" Alfred's attention flicked from the red head to Arthur, startled by it he took an unsteady step forward and said a simple, "Could I please have a earl grey tea with low fat milk?"

"Sure can do sugar."

Once the payment was given, she yelled out the order to a barista who sat to her left. Quickly he began flicking switches, grinding coffee and heating up milk. The man worked with such ease and expertise that the coffee and tea was ready within a few minutes.

Gladly, Alfred took both the tea and coffee from the red head, who gave a wink that went unnoticed from Alfred. The blondes walked over to a soft brown and green pair of arm chairs that were facing each other, a dark brown wooden coffee table in between.

Alfred placed the coffee on his side and the tea on Arthur's, the Briton mumbled a small, "thanks, prat" it was always Arthur's custom to add a swear or an insult to people he disliked or hardly knew, and seeing as it was too early for Arthur to say he disliked Alfred and too late to say he didn't know him, so he just kept lightly insulting as the American didn't mind.

Arthur placed the plastic cup of contained tea to the tip of his lip and took a long sip of the tea. It wasn't as good as the tea they had back in England, but it would do. If he had his way he would have the builders tea of PG Tips right here and right now. Arthur only noticed as he looked up from his up of tea that Alfred was staring intently at him.

"Why are you staring at me, you bleeding muppet?!" Arthur shouted which gained a few people to look up from their laptop screens to stare at the blonde.

"Oh was I sorry, it's just…it's just I think you're interesting…" Arthur saw red at that comment and almost threatened to flip the table.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN? ARE YOU TAKING THE PISS ON ME?" Arthur jumped up onto his feet and yelled down at the American who winced at the sound of Arthur's screech.

"Ew dude no and calm down, people are staring." Arthur looked around to see all eyes on him, sighing and breathing to himself he sat down in his chair, "What do you mean by…interesting?" Arthur questioned, emphasising on the interesting.

"Well I guess you moved all the way from another country to get into our company so I'm just wondering why or what made you do that? It must have been something really influencing."

_In a flash of a second, Arthur's face was hit with metal. He didn't feel the pain straight away nor did he remember how it happened. All he could remember was waking up in a white room with bright lights and a teddy bear at his side._

"Arthur? You ok? You look like you're crying."

_Had I been crying…? Of course I haven't there's no way…oh? _Arthur moved his hand to his cheek and right there running down his face was fresh wet tears. Shaking his head, he forced them away by fiercely rubbing his face, but not too hard as he didn't want his face to be any more red and puffy then it was.

"Oh yes, I'm sorry I don't really want to talk about that…"

"Oh sorry I should've known, I mean it's all right I just met'cha anyway…hey she put her number on my cup…Jenny…" Alfred noted rubbing his finger over the scribbled in permanent marker. Arthur rolled his eyes as Alfred looked up to the red head and she waved in response.

"Looks like someone wants to cop off you." Arthur said, his frown hidden behind his cup.

Alfred hummed in response, before realising what Arthur said. "What? Oh no way dude," Alfred said as he threw the cardboard wrapping into the rubbish, along with the girl's number, "Don't go that way, sorry if you don't like homos per say but I'm pretty honest about that type of shit."

Really, he just met Arthur and he's giving away information like that so easily? Put on the spot once again he answered a quick, "No its fine, to be honest I don't mind, it's your choice and everyone should be happy with it."

"I like your attitude Artie, so is there anything you can tell me about yourself that you don't mind telling?" Alfred queried leaning over the coffee table.

"Why should I? I mean I just met you for Christ's sake."

"Well when a dude buys another dude a coffee in America it kinda means that they want to chat."

"When a chap buys their mate a tea in England it's usually to repay a favour, not to chit chat."

"Yeah, but look around you dude, do you see any British flags or queen's walking around? No it's just the good old states of the free with all you can eat buffets."

"That was a horrible speech."

"Yeah I think it was…"

There was a few seconds of silence and the pair of blondes looked at each other. One snivelling in small attempts to cover his laugh, and the other giggling behind his coffee. They finally broke and started heartily laughing to each other all, the sound of chortling and rapid breaths filled their side of the Starbuck's and people were looking at them for a different reason.

Arthur was facing his own knees as his laugh was mainly directed at his lower body in an attempt to stifle his giggle while Alfred continued to laugh at a loud volume, often throwing his body back and forward.

Once they had calmed down from their light jokes, both blondes couldn't help the smiles that plastered their faces as they sat in the café. Most people were gone and the workers seemed to be packing up but, neither blonde cared, and for once in Arthur's life he was actually happy to be surrounded by company.

Friendly chit chatter followed after time, Arthur being able to freely talk, joke and scowl either with or at Alfred. But the thing that annoyed Arthur the most was how Alfred was so friendly yet his conversations were both understanding and thoughtful. Sure there were a few moments were Alfred would get off topic and talk about video games, but all the same it left Arthur feeling friendship, for once in his life he had a friend.

Eventually the duo ended up being forced out of the restaurant as they stayed well past closing time. Alfred asked Arthur for his phone number but he refused as he didn't want to waste money on credit (hadn't switched over to American phone lines), but Alfred shrugged it off and made Arthur pinkie promise to give it to him when he did.

Arthur only smiled and the pair walked off in different directions, Arthur ended up getting the American version of the tube, while Alfred got a taxi.

Through the sway of the train and through the screeching sound of metal Arthur couldn't help the smile that he wore the whole way home. Even when he walked through the door and climbed into bed his mind couldn't linger away from Alfred.

* * *

A/N: Do I sense a child hood trauma I think I do~ All right so I looked back at my last chapter and Francis is a real biatch to Matthew, maybe it will lighten up, maybe it won't. Oh I'm so happy I got my jack frost wig (finally) I just have to pick it up from the post, but I don't like the mailman because he is all like hur kan jag hjälpa dig litet barn and I'm like** stawp scaring me!**

But anways reviews? I swear I hate the cliche but I couldn't resist!

Translations: (where were they?)

queue: is the British term for line, as in wait in line

prat: idiot

muppet: dimwit (basically)

Taking the piss (out) on me: make fun of

cop off: snog, make out... le baiser français! (french kiss)

And that's all I think...meh see ya next chapter Bros!


	5. Chapter 5

**Love Letter Mail Room**

~oO0Oo~

**Note: You'll hate me for this chapter... sowwy**

Chapter 5: Sweet beginnings rough endings

It had been a week since Arthur's and Alfred's first 'date' per say. The pair had bumped into each other a few times around the work place, only stopping for a quick chat before Alfred had a meeting or Arthur had been called back to the mail room.

As Arthur was in charge of shipping more supplies out to each company over the entire United States, things were getting pretty hectic. There had been a downfall in Chinese shipping as they were not receiving the imports they needed from countries like Australia and New Zealand, so Arthur was left with a massive problem.

The amount of mail he had been getting was enormous, each sender complaining over what products they had and others that they didn't, some important and others not so much. As of this issue, he had to hand over some of his letters to Matthew who was under just as much stress.

Francis was a dead-end pit of nothingness, literally. Arthur had tried to reason and get along with the Frenchmen but as soon as a single word left the man's mouth, Arthur had the sudden desire to strangle him to the floor.

But as of fact, Francis had been absent from work for far too many days. Now, Arthur wouldn't say he was worried for the frog but he couldn't help the slightest bit concerned. He also noted how Matthew seemed less cheery without the Frenchman's company. His pace of work was slower than usual, and he seemed to loss that fiery determination he had while he was at work. Arthur paid no mind to it though and tried to have idle conversations with Matthew to take his mind of things.

So as Arthur filled another piece of paper into the filing cabinets, Matthew turned and grabbed his hand. Arthur was startled by the action. Never had the soft-spoken, kind-hearted Canadian do something so bold, but Arthur didn't question it as his gaze shifted away from the letter to Matthew.

"Yes Matthew?" Arthur asked as gently as he could, addressing to the Canadian who began to shuffle where he stood. Arthur took both of his hands in his own in an attempt of comfort.

"A-Arthur, can I talk to you?" Matthew quivered slightly as he spoke and Arthur could only give a nod that was accompanied by a gentle smile.

"Of course you may, Matthew. Come along, sit down and let's have a chat." Arthur offered taking a seat into his own chair and Matthew doing the same but at a more hesitant and slower speed. Arthur adjusted his chair so that he was facing Matthew, directly so that he showed Matthew his full and utter attention.

"Arthur…I think I love Francis…" The statement was left hanging in the air, and Arthur could feel his throat go dry. Never in his life had he been the person to give advice about love, things that were left for the French –the only good thing they could do— and for good reason at that too.

He didn't know what he could say, or what he should say. He wasn't exactly Katie Boyle, and by no means was he Phoebe Halliwell—aside the fact that he performs black magic— so question as such left him hung high and dry at this point.

Silence

More Silence

That was accompanied by more silence

Arthur had to say something.

Shifting in his chair he looked at Matthew and gripped his hands and looked Matthew square in the eyes, "Matthew, I've never really been good with advice, but all I can say to you is not to get too infatuated with Francis, he's a bit of a wild case." Arthur chided and he felt Matthew go stiff.

"Arthur I can't help it!" Matthew shouted, though it came out more as a screeched whisper, "I can't help the way that I feel about Francis, I don't know why and I can't explain how…he doesn't even like me back…" Matthew's voice grew faint and Arthur shifted himself closer to Matthew, closing the gap between the pair of blondes.

"Matthew, I am not sure that Francis loves you like you do to him…" Arthur said and he could see Matthew's lip quiver and his eyes dilate in fear, "but, I do in fact believe he well um," _What's the god damn word, "_likes you."

"What-what do you mean by that?" Mathew asked, his voice was building up hopefulness. Arthur felt the piercing pressure of Matthew's eyes flick back on him and he grew cautious in his phrasing.

"Well haven't you noticed the constant flirting that he has given you? I mean surely Matthew you aren't that thick, even a loveless bugger like me can notice that." Matthew gave a small smile in response before it slipped into a frown. Arthur grew confused and even more so when Matthew squeezed his hands on Arthur's.

"Don't call yourself a loveless bugger Arthur; I'm sure there is someone out there who loves you and you the same. Don't ever give up on the chance of love Arthur, it only comes every so often and when it does sometimes it is not always the way it seems, just…don't be blinded by love, but never give up hope." Matthew seemed to be giving more advice then Arthur was, _he really is an agony aunt isn't he._

"Don't worry Matthew, I most certainly won't be. Now I want to get back to wor-wah?!" Arthur let out a screech as his chair was suddenly pushed back, papers flew everywhere and he rolled over on the floor in slight pain. He looked up to see Matthew's body flushed against his own, with hands wrapped around his waist in a tight and completely platonic embrace. Arthur gave chuckled and snaked his hands around Matthew's upper back.

Arthur didn't notice the clear glass door slam, nor did he hear the retreating footsteps that were rushed and heavy with a feeling of aggravation and hurt. He was too preoccupied with hugging Matthew. Though the one thing he did notice the piece of paper that was lying on the floor near the front door. He gave a quizzical look at the paper and felt Matthew's hands gingerly move away.

"I'm sorry about that Arthur." Matthew said backing away from Arthur to turn up the flipped over chair.

"It's quite all right Matthew, completely understandable." Arthur chided, though his eyes weren't on Matthew, they were directly eyeing the piece of scrap paper at the door.

~oO0Oo~

Arthur ended up picking up the piece of lined scrap paper at the door, though he didn't look at it, not a peep from the green-eyed male was laid on the piece of paper. He would wait until he got home to open the paper.

Today was an eventful day itself, Arthur noted as he began to walk his way to the train station. The whole incident with Matthew and Francis, but that wasn't the weirdest thing. He hadn't seen Alfred for the entire day; usually they would see each other at lunch as they usually had it at the same time. But no, not a single sign of the American blonde.

It was quite odd; the whole building seemed to know when Alfred was around. With his loud and annoying voice that somehow managed to drive Arthur up the wall and make him turn bright red like a blushing bride on her wedding day. Yes, Alfred could make Arthur feel all these emotions and in all honesty it terrified him, he only wanted to travel to America for his job, not for friends and love, and the first one was already ruled out.

Arthur managed to make his way down the endless flights of stairs that lined the entire layout of the American subway. _Gosh for a country with such a large obesity rate, they really surprised me with the stairs._ Shoulders rubbed and bashed against each other as Arthur tried to snake his way through the crowd of people, it really would benefit to be taller but it that was a dream close to never land.

As he looked up from the scruff of his shoes, his eyes caught sight of an annoying piece of golden blonde hair that refused to stay down and continued to defy the laws of gravity. With a sudden spark of energy he pushed through the people and tried to make his way closer to Alfred. He wasn't sure why he was so enthusiastic to see the American, but he blamed it on the fact he hadn't seen him all day. "Alfred!" Arthur called out, hoping the taller would turn around and show Arthur his million dollar gleam of a smile.

He did turn around, however, it was not to the sight Arthur wanted. His sapphire blue eyes shot a glare over to Arthur, which made the latter immediately freeze on the spot, other New Yorkers having to dodge around him. The cold steel-blue glare was filled with such hatred, such anger, such disappointment that Arthur shied away once he thawed from his frozen state.

Alfred walked off in the other direction and the crowd of people began to act as a camouflage, as he blended in making Arthur lose sight of Alfred quickly. Arthur sighed in defeat and looked up to see the large carriage of steel arriving to the station, he like all the other people began to file onto the train like a swarm of ants to all different directions of the colony.

Arthur sat on the train in silence, no longer feeling that same enthusiasm he had at the start of the day. He felt all that energy wiped away like chalk on a blackboard at that glare. That glare, that glare, _that glare…that glare was directed at me, but why?_

Arthur wasn't sure when he got home, nor did he remember when he plopped himself into the warm comforter of his bed. He felt terrible, did he do something wrong to Alfred? Or was it something else completely different, maybe he was just imaging the glare due to the long day of tiresome work. No, it couldn't have been that, he'd been doing nothing but sorting out mail, so there was nothing to hallucinate about.

But then he remembered! The letter that he found on the floor, he roughly pulled it out of his trouser pockets and inspected it closer. It was a bit more crumpled from when he first found it, but that didn't matter, he opened it anyway.

**Dear Arthur,**

**I'm not sure how to admit to you about how I feel about you Arthur.**

**I cannot rhyme, I've never been a poet but somehow I feel I can write my feelings on paper.**

**I love your sunshine hair, your smile (when you allow it), your beautiful eyebrows that would only ever suit you, no one else.**

**I love your personality, when you're happy, sad, angry or depressed. Even when you threaten to kill people I can never help but laugh at your undying confidence.**

**You are confident, you are beautiful, you are Arthur Kirkland.**

**Franklin **

Arthur was left befuddled at the letter, who was Franklin? Why was he or she sending me this letter, and why a love letter? What was the irony of having a love letter delivered to someone who works as low as a mailroom? Well obviously someone has a pinning for Arthur, but who? He couldn't think of a single person who would send a letter of love to him, a letter of hate was understandable, not love.

What about Alfred? No- there was no way it could have been Alfred. Alfred would never write such a beautiful letter to Arthur, let alone have such as neat hand writing as the letter possessed. And besides, he made it pretty obvious that he hated Arthur. He would have to keep thinking if he wanted to know who sent him the letter, and if there were any more to come.

Arthur's mind flickered to when he and Matthew hugged and the small talk that the pair of blondes shared. _"…just…don't be blinded by love, but never give up hope." _He would be sure to remember Matthew's words and wish the best of luck to Matthew in perusing his love for Francis.

He couldn't stay up any longer than he had, he had work tomorrow of course. So, he managed to crawl his way of the bed and have a shower, he didn't feel like eating tonight, far too depressed to do so.

* * *

A/N: I'M SORRY FOR THE DEPRESSING USUK CHAPTER! But hey Franada is a blooming blossom just waiting to burst free! (what did I just write). But I wanted to thank all of you! The support I've had is amazing and **YOU**are the reason why I write, so keep reviewing, favouriting and following! This wouldn't be done without all of you guys reading, so I thank you. Tack kära läsare!

Just if you're interested here's what I listen to when writing.

watch?v=cbNU1nytzGs (add y.o.u.t.u.b.e at the front with a .com at the end)

Also who is this mysterious Franklin and why is Alfred so mad, what makes the sky blue, what makes the earth go round...SCIENCE!

Translations/References

Phoebe Halliwell- is a witch of the beloved American show 'Charmed' she also has an advice column

Katie Boyle- famous Italian/British advice columnist

agony aunt- British term for advice columnist

bugger- a disliked person preferably man. (English)

And just a note, China gets most of its imports from Australia and New Zealand, things like metal, wool and stuff.

All right bros see you next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Love Letter Mail Room**

~oO0Oo~

Chapter 6: Brother Complex

Matthew was so excited when he finally got the chance to go home. The talk he had with Arthur really enlightened his mood and his mind-set. It made him feel more confident with his feelings for Francis, and generally made him self-assured in all of his movements, as he now walked with a stride.

He was walking towards the train station, where he was going to go home after a long day of sorting out mail to see his brother. Despite the fact that he was indeed the older brother of the brothers - despite the fact that he looked about the age of fifteen - Alfred displayed the qualities of leadership more than himself.

Alfred was always called the better twin, the twin that everyone knew and wanted to know. Matthew was just the rejected child that no one wanted to know. And most of the time people forgot that he even did exist.

He had always felt like the child born with a terrible disability that was too disgusting to even look at, compared to his younger brother who was perfect in every way. But that changed when he met Francis.

He met Francis after a year of working in the mail room. The newly transferred flirtatious Frenchman couldn't speak English at all, which was an oddity for someone who was moving to an (American) English country. So the Canadian decided to help his fellow workmate, using his French Canadian education to his advantage. Slowly the Frenchman developed the language and was talking non stop, like a babbling baby who had discovered the word mum.

During the time of tutoring, Matthew grew close to Francis. His feelings of friendship began to change into something else entirely, at first he couldn't describe it. It felt warm to him, like a security blanket enveloping his entire body, but yet the fire wasn't too strong it was soft and sweet all the same. and he couldn't get enough of it.

When Arthur came in a year later after Francis, Matthew was delighted he'd have someone to talk to about his personal issues in revealing his feelings for Francis. Though the two got along worse than oil and water, Matthew slowly grew accustomed to the constant bickering of the pair.

But then there became jealousy. Matthew began to feel Arthur and Francis's connection grow steadily, and even though it was nothing but pointless arguing, Matthew felt invisible again. He kept to himself most of the time when the two were fighting, idly studying at the folds of the envelopes. Once they stopped only then did he speak up, though it was a hushed whisper, and he hated it.

So he decided to confront Arthur about his feelings, and all though he was at first disappointed with the Briton's response, he found the tables turn as he was now giving the love advice to Arthur, because being invisible had its advantages. He had seen Arthur's cheeks dust over in a light rosy red at the sight or mention of his younger brother, and he could only hide his smirk by the envelopes that he worked with.

Though something was quite different today, once he reached his apartment in the inner suburbs of New York, he didn't come home to a happy overly excited younger brother. No, he came home to a quite house that for once had the TV turned off and the study door open. Curiosity washed over his brain in an instant, so he decided to take cautious steps over to the study.

Creaking the door open his amethyst eyes looked over to the large dark wooden table, to see his brother face down on the hard wood. His hair dishevelled. his glasses thrown lazily aside as they now sat askew on the edge of the table. Matthew approached him slowly, as if he were a fragile and skittish deer.

Once he was able to get at a close enough distance - without his brother noticing - he placed a tender hand on his hunched over shoulder. His brother jumped with a start, causing the chair to fall backwards and Matthew himself going down with the chair.

"Oh Mattie dude! I'm so sorry, here let me help ya up." Alfred offered a hand and Matthew gladly took it. Hoisting himself up he reached down for the chair, placing it up right once again.

Matthew looked deep into Alfred's eyes, he could tell something was definitely wrong with the way his sapphire blue eyes no longer gleamed bright with energy. If his brother wasn't sat on the couch with a packet of corn chips in one hand and a game controller in the other, something was up.

"Alfred is something wrong?" Matthew questioned, he felt Alfred's eyes darken to swirling waves of the ocean, and he was caught in the middle of it with nothing to hang onto.

"Oh nothings wrong Matthew, nothing at all." His eyes averted to the pieces of paper that were on the desk, he moved his hands to hide them, hastily crunching them into his blazer pockets.

"Alfred there is something wrong and don't you dare and try to lie to me, you know it won't work." Matthew's voice grew stern as he stared down his brother, blue and purple eyes glared at each other intensely until Alfred gave up.

The american gave a sigh at his older twin and shoved his hands into his pockets, "Leave me alone Mattie, I just hope you enjoy your time with Artie." Alfred said glumly and attempted to manoeuvre around the smaller blonde, but Matthew wouldn't let him through.

Matthew stood there stunned at his brother, just what did he mean by that? Matthew gripped Alfred hard on his hands, squeezing them to ensure he wouldn't move. Even though Matthew did look like a weakling he was far from it.

"Alfred I'm not done talking to you. Just what did you mean by that?" Matthew's voice was now harsh and firm that made even Alfred shiver.

However, Alfred stood his ground. Eyes glaring back at the foisting set of amethyst that contradicted his very own. Alfred gave a sigh and easily yanked Matthew's hand off of his, earning a yelp from the latter. What surprised Matthew even more was that Alfred didn't storm away down the hall. No, he sat in the chair behind the desk.

Alfred cracked his knuckles and leant back in the chair, which earnt him a baffled expression from Matthew. The Canadian was going to question his brother's sudden change in attitude, before Alfred put out a hand beckoning him to the chair facing the desk.

He sat down reluctantly, still confused about what was going on, he was just hopping Alfred was going to have some answers. "Matthew, I, um, well... I happen to like someone in the work office." Alfred said meekly, his gaze never once meeting Matthews, only the scuff of his shoes.

"Tha- that's great Alfred, you should tell th-" Matthew thrust forward in his chair in excitement before his brother interrupted, burning out the spark of happiness that was slowly rekindling.

"I don't think they like me, they made it pretty clear to me today..." He cut Matthew off crisply, his voice lacking in any enthusiasm it was simply solemn. But his response still left Matthew feeling confused, it wouldn't kill Alfred to be a bit more clear in his explanation could it? But then something clicked, something fit into place like the last remaining puzzle piece of a puzzle.

"It's Arthur isn't it?" Matthew questioned and his answer was immediately received with the widening of Alfred's eyes and his jaw opening and closing wordlessly. "I knew it!" Matthew cheered quietly and Alfred's eyes had grown to the size of saucers.

"YOU KNEW?!" He shouted in shock, his cheeks flaring up to a bright red. How could he have noticed, I was sure I was being subtle, subtle my ass apparently!

"Of course I knew, it was quite obvious really." Came the simple reply from the Canadian as he slumped back in the armrests of the chair.

"How did you know though, Mattie?"

"You kept putting your letters to Arthur on my desk, really you didn't think where you put them before you ran away like a high school teenager with a crush on Troy Bolton." Matthew had a sly smirk as he finished.

"Hey don't dis high school musical, that is one of the best american made musicals I have ever seen. And I don't know what desk is Artie's, you really think I check, I'm more worried about him finding out its me." Alfred's eyes shifted once again to the black polish of his shoes in self-loath, he knew that Arthur wasn't the most easiest person to please.

"Trust me I know he doesn't know its you, and right now I don't think he wants to talk to you." Matthew reassured, though his confidence was wavering with a level close to Alfred's at the moment.

"Of course he doesn't want to talk to me! He's dating you now so why would he-"

"Woah woah woah, Alfred what are you talking about Arthur being my boyfriend?" Matthew defended himself and began to grow confused by Alfred. Why would he say that?

"I saw you two in the office today. Holding each other on the floor and laughing into each other's chests." He finished with a huff and began to pick himself off the chair, offering a smile nod of the head for Matthew to follow. The pair walked down the hall and into the large spacious lounge room.

_Jeez Alfred now who's acting like Ashley Tisdale..._

The blue eyed blonde plunked himself down on the black leather couch, the other following. Loosening his black tie he reached forward and practically grappled onto the game controller that was on the clear glass coffee table in-front of him. Though through the whole time, Matthew's eyes never left Alfred's. There was a tender silence in the air as Alfred devoted all of his attention to remembering his password to his Xbox account.

"...Alfred, Arthur and I, we aren't dating..." Matthew broke the silence, though he was often called the quieter and more silent one of the brother's, he couldn't bare the sound of Alfred being quiet. It never suited Alfred to be quite for too long, and any time he was it was usually a personal matter of his, like the one now.

"...It's ok Mattie, you don't have to lie to me about it." He answered dryly and opened up the game that was already loaded into the console, 'Assassins Creed Black Flag', nothing like a good game of blood, gore, violence and thievery to get your mind of things. Matthew frowned at Alfred's response, he was such a thick headed, idiot, hoser of a brother and he couldn't stand it at times.

"God damn it Alfred, I'm not lying to you. Arthur isn't and never will be my boyfriend, I don't like him like that...and besides...I happen to like someone else." Matthew's cheeks flared up at the thought of Francis. He could only imagine the sweet things the Frenchman would whisper, the tender loving kissing he would give and the soft comforting hands of Francis wrapping around his waist.

Matthew must have been in his own world of him and Francis as he didn't realise his brother's gaze was no longer on the TV but directly at him. Matthew jumped for what felt like five feet in the air when he noticed his brother. "You really mean it Mattie?" Alfred asked, insecurity laced heavily in his voice. Matthew could only smile at Alfred's child antics, he could really be a 5-year-old with his personality.

"I mean it Alfred, Arthur and I aren't dating, and If you like Arthur I think you should continue with your love letters. As childish as they are I remember the face he made when he opened one. He admired it Alfred, he really did."

If anyone was good at giving advice to relationships it was definitely Matthew. His own other suggested that he should have quit the family business and moved to a local newspaper to do an advice column. But he could never do it. Despite how his brain wanted to break free from the shackles of the family business, his heart always belonged there, with Alfred, as his brother, as his best friend.

Alfred smiled at Matthews response and handed him the other controller. The brother's shouts of cheers and jeers were the only sounds that filled the apartment space. And for once in his life, Matthew felt visible, no longer concealed of sight by the human eye, and he couldn't get enough of this feeling.

* * *

A/N: New POV was it ok? I need to know!

I'm very sorry guys for not updating sooner. I've had loads of school word piled up on my desk and its just driving me insane. I've devoted every spare second I've had to writing this. So each day I would do a little of this while flicking to the second season of Free. Oh my god guys, the second season is just so good! I just wish Japan would release the whole season already, though I miss the old ending, not found of the new one!Also I got my jack frost wig and its so pale and white and pretty~ I love wearing it, but its so fragile so I can't wear it too much.

I don't think there were any references besides the high school musical ones and the classic Canadian hoser.

Your support is amazing guys, I love every time you review, favourite or follow. You guys encourage me to write and I will be happy to see to your demands.

All right bros see you next chapter!


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